Entropy is ecstasy; decay is divine. The verse is supposed to fall apart. We’re just here to keep leatherheads from interfering.
Home Field: Each negative quasiplane
Best Alignment: Any
WITHIN THE RANKSEdit
Naturally enough, the Doomguard’s hierarchy is a loose one, despite its militaristic outlook. At the top are the factol and the Doomlords (the equivalent of factors), and below that is everyone else. But the faction’s not going to appeal to everyone, especially not cutters who lie to collect and hoard treasure, land, or trinkets. None of that matters to a Doomguard: all that’s important is focusing on the end.
ROLEPLAYING THE DOOMGUARDEdit
The Doomguard doesn’t bother marking namers and factotums: the only distinctions it makes are among faction members who push hard for entropy, those who let nature take its course, and those who slow it all down. ’Course, as the first hunch of Sinkers is usually the most vocal (and violent), the latter two groups often find themselves viewed as agents - tools, really - to be manipulated by ‘right thinking” faction members. This can often lead to blows when Sinkers of different leanings try to work together. But infighting’s natural, they’d say -just another manifestation of decay.
The Doomguard‘s one of the factions most open to a body’s personal interpretation of its tenets. Regardless of how a Sinker leans, he always responds to a direct threat to entropy. But the method of that response varies from one body to another, depending on alignment and faction leaning. Say a Hardhead moves to break up a brawl, or an Indep tries to quiet a stampeding herd. A Doomguard who believes in speeding up the decay of the multiverse would physically restrain the berk trying to restore order. Another Sinker might take a longer view: Perhaps letting the Harmonium basher make his arrest is the entropic thing to do, as it may engender more hatred for the Hardheads and eventually spak a mass uprising.
A Sinker’s got to live with his own choices, and that extends to personal habits, as well. Some Sinkers use only the newest of gear, delighting in the erosion of virgin materials. Others use equipment that’s passed through many hands, insistent that secondhand articles he shepherded to their demise. And some sport clothing and weapons so old as to be barely functional. ’Course, a Doomguard warrior who fights with a broken sword won’t be much loved by his adventuring group - except perhaps, by a rogue who follows the sinker along, picking up gold coins that drop through the hole in his worn pocket.
The Doomguard‘s open to bashers of all alignments. But a Sinker’s world view tends to put him in one of the three competing cliques that’ve popped up in the faction. Those of chaotic alignments usually fall in with the Sinkers who want to accelerate the pace of decay; those of neutral alignments generally agree that the multiverse should crumble at its own pace, with no help or hindrance; and lawful cutters try to hold entropy to a slow crawl. What’s more, these three distinctions are further colored by whether a Sinker leans toward good or evil. Good Sinkers prefer inaction as a method of pushing their agenda - rather than tearing down a new kip, they’d merely stop others from shoring up a decrepit one. But evil Sinkers play a more active role, figuring that it’s better to start a fire than sit around and wait for one.
Priests with access to the spheres of creation or healing are banned from the Doomguard; their spells are a slap in the face to the forces of entropy. However, all other classes - including priests who can’t use those constructive spheres - may join the faction. Fact is, a Sinker’s class often determines how fiercely he fights for entropy. Many fighters take a direct approach, using their strength and weapon skills to weaken bridges, upend merchants’ carts, and so on. Wizards and priests tend to step back and more readily grasp the big picture, promoting decay in a subtle, long-range fashion. And rogues like to use their abilities to stir up chaos, rather than build their fortunes - a thief might plant stolen goods in the mayor’s pocket, for example, or a sweettongued bard might incite oppressed masses to riot.
The Doomguard’s open to most everyone, but it wants to make sure that an applicant’s not some berk who’ll run around destroying things just for the fun of it. A body looking to sign up must pass three tests to prove his understanding of and devotion to entropy. A candidate should talk to Ely Cromlich or Spragg at the armory; whichever of them is less busy’ll administer the tests. First, the basher must smash one of his weapons to pieces on an outer wall of the Armory, showing both decay and his willingness to surrender his past life. Second, he must take a sack containing no fewer than 500 gold pieces into the Hive Ward and scatter the coins in a public place – if a riot breaks out, all the better.
But it’s the third test that usually gives a basher pause: He must prevent the dabus from trimming back the razorvine on any single overgrown building in the Cage for a full day. With communication difficult and combat most likely fatal (especially if the Lady of Pain takes offense at a berk messing with her agents), the applicant must find more creative method of protecting razorvine. Any cutter who passes all there tests is given a Doomguard-forged sword and henceforth considered a Sinker.